


Confessions of a Drunken Frat Boy

by along_those_lines



Series: Kissing Prompts - Plance [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Frat Boy Lance (Voltron), I'm using all the Drunken tags tonight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 20:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16502591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/along_those_lines/pseuds/along_those_lines
Summary: Lance becomes a lot more observant when inebriated





	Confessions of a Drunken Frat Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Kissing Prompt #3: Drunk/Sloppy Kiss
> 
> Disclaimer, I have never been to anything resembling a house party. So, I’m completely working off of fanfiction knowledge here.

Lance was mostly sure he had had too many shots about three shots ago. Then again, his brain was mostly not working at this point. All he knew was that he most definitely would not be driving home.  


He was currently at the hottest frat party of the year. The Phi Kappa Phi brothers really knew how to take it the extra mile, and this year they included an inflatable couch with a wine cooler on either side to float in the pool. It was the perfect balance between classy and college.  


Lance probably would have left the party sooner, since as much as he loved drinking, he hated the ensuing hangover more. But he was pretty sure one of the frat brothers was already using his room, and he really didn’t want to risk walking in on anything… again.  


So, he had stayed, and drank more. He hadn’t quite gotten to keg stand drunk yet, but he was rapidly approaching the mark, and wanted to get out before that happened.  


Quickly scanning the room for someone sober to drive him home, his eyes landed on Pidge. She was sitting in the middle of the counter, completely ignoring the Gamma Beta Pi sister standing behind her trying to get her to move so they could do body shots. Pidge was calmly surveying the dance floor, looking amused at the mass of writhing bodies, and much too alert to be drunk. She looked beautiful. She was perfect.  


Lance rushed over to her side. Well… painstakingly shoved people aside until he was close enough to yell to her over the music. Same thing really.  


“Pidge!” He yelled to her. It took her a second to find him, but when she did she raised an inquisitive eyebrow, silently asking him what he wanted.  


Lance opened his mouth to ask his question, then paused as he realized that he had totally forgotten what he came over to ask her. Instead, he shouted, “Come dance with me!” before reaching for her hand and dragging her off the counter. The Beta Pi girl squealed with delight, before swiping the rest of the cups off the counter and climbing on top of it.  


“Lance! You made me lose my spot! Do you have any idea how long it took me to claim that?” She yelled at him, even as he dragged her further onto the dance floor.  


“Nope!” he yelled back, before beginning to dance. Pidge just stood there, crossing her arms over her chest; her expression a cross between frustration and self-consciousness.  


Lance reached over and pried her hands away from her body, “Come on, Pidge. Dance with me! Everyone’s too drunk to notice if you dance badly!”  


Pidge laughed, “Yeah, including you!”  


“Hey! I’m not that drunk.” He sputtered indignantly. Lance leaned down, close enough to whisper directly into her ear, before saying in a low voice, “I’m not drunk enough to tell you what a huge crush I have on you yet.”  


He leaned away again, before waggling his eyebrows suggestively and breaking out into drunken dancing again. Pidge, who had garnered a massive blush, laughed at him as she started dancing, hoping that he was just kidding, or that he was too drunk to remember any of this in the morning.  


Halfway through the third… or maybe it was the fourth… song they had danced together, Lance was getting really thirsty again. He really hated to interrupt Pidge, as she had gotten really into dancing, which was impressive for someone who was completely sober. They had been having a blast, dancing goofily around the dance floor, spinning each other and knocking into other couple, who of course glared at them for interrupting their grinding. Lance couldn’t say that he cared all that much.  


He shouted to Pidge over the music, “I’m getting another drink! Come with me!”  


She nodded, and staying together with their linked hands, they started to shove their way off of the dance floor.  


Coming to the counter, Lance grabbed a couple glasses and poured a shot of vodka for himself and for Pidge. He handed one to her before downing his own, “I know vodka is your favorite. A drink for the lady.” She casually dumped hers into a nearby plant.  


With excessive gusto, Lance turned back to her, remembering his question from earlier. “Hey!” He shouted, making her jump slightly, “I remembered what I was gonna ask before. Will you drive me home?” He tried giving her the puppy-dog eyes that he knew worked so well on women.  


She gave him a funny look, somewhere between confusion and amusement, “Lance, why would you need me to drive you home?” She asked.  


“Cause I’m drunk. Can’t drive. But you aren’t drunk…” He paused, looking concerned, “Maybe I shouldn’t have given you that shot.”  


Pidge laughed shortly, before clarifying, “No. Lance, why would you need me to _drive_ you home?” she asked again. Lance wasn’t sure why though, he had already told her why. He was drunk.  


“I’ll pay you in kisses.” He said, ignoring her question and moving smoothly (read: stumbling) forward and slotting his lips over hers. Even through his drunkenness, Lance registered that it was really nice, kissing Pidge. _I should really try this when I’m sober._ He thought to himself.  


Pidge politely pushed him back up to standing. Had she always been that short? Her face was fashioned into a scowl, but beautifully flushed, and Lance wondered idly if she had secretly enjoyed the kiss, sloppy and alcohol-induced as it was.  


“Lance,” she said slowly, trying to get the message through to him. “You live _here._ You don’t need me to drive you anywhere, goofball.”  


Lance paused, brain still buzzing from the combination of drink and kiss, wondering why he had asked her to drive him. He knew he lived here. Oh right! He remembered.  


“I don’t wanna stay _here_ , Pidge.” He pouted, “Stars knows what’s been happening on my bed tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows at her for emphasis.  


Pidge blushed, and he hoped that meant that she understood what he meant, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain it again in a non-crude manner in his current state.  


She crossed her arms over her chest once again, obviously growing frustrated with his antics, “Then where exactly do you propose that I take you, Lance?”  


Lance pondered this for a moment, noticing how she began to tap her foot, and ignoring her impatience while he thought. It wasn’t his fault he had drunk brain.  


Suddenly it hit him, “We can go to your place! I bet no one’s gotten frisky there in years.”  


He watched as her face became more agitated than before, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was he had done to annoy her this time.  


Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose, “Fine, but no funny business. Last time I let you stay at my apartment drunk you decided you had to have a smoothie at 4am, and then forgot to put the lid on.” She took a step towards him, and he couldn’t help noticing that she smelled really nice as she pointed a finger sternly at him, “You will lay on the couch and sleep. And you will leave first thing in the morning because I have a paper to write tomorrow.”  


Lance nodded dumbly, a little overwhelmed by her proximity combined with her scent.  


Pidge sighed again, and he thought he may have heard her mutter something along the lines of “gonna regret this” or “you help a guy one time.” But he couldn’t be sure.  


The whole drive from the frat house to Pidge’s apartment, Lance stared at her, mesmerized by the way the traffic lights made her hair look more like a halo than the tawny mane that it truly was. Awe inspired by the way that she sang softly under her breath to the Shawn Mendes song playing over the radio. Transfixed by the flush that crawled up her neck when she realized he was staring; and way too drunk to care that she noticed.  


By the time they had reached her building, that last shot had taken full effect, and he could no longer walk straight; he could barely walk forward. Pidge had to support him as they walked up the two flights of stairs to her door, both of them complaining the whole time about her living on the third floor.  


Pidge carefully leaned Lance up against the wall while she fumbled with her keys, and he watched her like a lovestruck idiot.  


“You’re real pretty, Pidge. Straight up gorgeous.” He muttered, and he could feel his words slurring together as he started to let the exhaustion seep in.  


Pidge stared at him, looking fed up with his nonsense. Lance still wasn’t entirely sure what he had done. “You know. You’d probably be a lot more effective if you tried flirting with me when you were sober, Lance.” She turned back to trying to get her door open, “Every time, I swear.” He wasn’t sure if she was referring to Lance’s flirtatious behaviors while drunk, or her door sticking.  


“Can I kiss you again? I liked it.” He asked as she finally was able to jiggle the door open.  


“Sure, Lance. Whatever.” She said, completely done with him.  


Lance stumbled into the apartment behind her, but somehow managed to hook her arm before she got too far away and gently spin her into his side. She stumbled slightly, and Lance somehow managed to stay on his feet as he caught her and held her against his chest.  


If Lance was anything, he was a gentleman, and he wanted to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t forcing a kiss onto Pidge. But as he looked into her eyes, he didn’t see any disgust or nervousness. Instead, he saw anticipation, and when her eyes briefly dipped down towards his mouth, he took it as the go ahead.  


Swooping down, he caught her lips in his for the second kiss of the night. Pidge wasn’t surprised by this one, so she was able to catch Lance off guard by actually responding, letting out a breathy sigh as she moved her mouth against his. _Why haven’t I done this before?_ Lance thought, bringing one of his hands up to cup the back of Pidge’s head.  


Several seconds later, Pidge pulled away from the kiss, breathing slightly labored. She didn’t pull out of the embrace, however.  


“So, I guess someone finally got frisky in your apartment.” Lance joked.  


“Your breath smells like vodka.” She answered bluntly.  


“You like vodka.” He answered back. Pidge rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.


End file.
